


Tomato Rice Soup

by onlybritainisgreat (frecklesarechocolate)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 14:04:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesarechocolate/pseuds/onlybritainisgreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from anonymous: Dean makes Cas, his mothers "Tomato rice soup" because Cas is Ill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomato Rice Soup

**Author's Note:**

> So not beta'd.

"Hello, Deand," Cas said. His gravelly voice was even more raspy than usual.

Dean peered at the angel intently, his brilliant green eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Dude, you look...sick." Dean got up and put the back of his hand to Cas's forehead. "You're really warm."

He grabbed Cas's arm and pulled him over to the couch. Removing the trench coat, suit jacket and tie, Dean gently pushed Cas onto the couch. "How are you sick? You're an angel." He wasn't really expecting an answer; it was more that he was muttering to himself as he untied Cas's shoes and pulled them off.

Cas leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes slowly, as if keeping them open had taken a supreme amount of effort. "I don't know," he said. He was prevented from saying anything else by a coughing fit that shook his slim frame with its ferocity.

Dean frowned. "Don't try to talk. I'm going to..." he searched around Bobby's living room and realized that there was absolutely nothing in the house that might be useful for an angel who had a cold, might even have the flu. Dean scrubbed his hand through his hair. "Uh...what do angels do when they're sick?"

"Angels don't get sick, Deand." Cas spoke in a haughty tone, as if the entire notion were ridiculous.

Which, of course, it freaking was, Dean realized.

Angels of the Lord just don't get sick.

And yet.

"Dude. Look at you. You're pale, you're feverish, your nose is stuffed up, you're coughing up a lung and you're sweaty. You look like shit."

"Thank you, Deand. I feel much better now," Cas said dryly. He tried sitting up, but Dean pushed at his chest. It was a testament to how poorly the angel was feeling that he wasn't fussing too much about Dean trying to keep him lying down on the couch.

Dean stood looking down at his friend, who had closed his eyes again. What now? What could he possibly do to make Cas feel better?

"Oh!" Dean said quietly after a minute. "Cas, you gonna be okay in here for a few minutes? I think I have just the thing."

Cas opened one eye and looked up at Dean. "I will manage." Cas said, somehow making it sound as if he was getting ready to strategize for D-Day. Dean nodded and went into the kitchen.

Humming softly to himself, Dean rattled through a few of the cupboards until he found what he wanted. Further searching netted him a pot, a lid and a wooden spoon. He turned on the stove and went to work.

Ten minutes later, Dean brought a steaming bowl into the living room and sat on the edge of the couch next to Cas. "Hey, Cas," he whispered. Cas opened his eyes. "I got something for you. Should make you feel better."

Cas peered at the bowl. "What is it?" he asked.

"Tomato rice soup. My mom used to make it for me," Dean replied.

Cas hesitated. "Tomato soup has medicinal properties?" He eyed the bowl again; uncertain what the steaming red liquid could do that would make him feel better.

Dean sighed. "Well, no, probably not. But I always felt better when my mom made it, so, I just thought..."

Cas nodded, wincing a bit at the ache that had settled in just beneath his jaw. "Thank you Dean. It looks good." He scooted so he was sitting upright on the couch. He raised an eyebrow at Dean, who was still holding onto the bowl.

"Uh." Dean's cheeks flushed slightly. He scooped up a spoonful of soup, including a healthy portion of rice. Scraping the bottom of the spoon on the side of the bowl so the tomato soup wouldn't drip, he held the spoon up toward Cas's mouth. "It tastes better if you eat it this way."

A long, not quite uncomfortable moment passed before Cas nodded slowly, leaning his head forward slightly and opening his mouth to accept the spoon that Dean held out to him. Dean tipped the spoon slowly so the liquid cascaded into Cas's mouth, and then drew the spoon back slowly through Cas's closed lips. Cas closed his eyes and hummed a bit as the tomato flavor burst onto his tongue. "It's good."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't sound so surprised, you." He scooped up some more soup and continued feeding it to Cas. They were quiet as Cas ate; only the occasional clinking of the spoon on the side of the bowl ringing through air disturbed the companionable silence they shared.

Finally, the bowl was empty. "Thank you, Deand," Cas said, still sounding stuffed up. There was a touch more energy in his voice though.

Dean smiled and kissed Cas's forehead. "You should lie back down again. Maybe try to sleep?" Cas nodded and leaned back, his eyes closed before his head hit the pillow. His breathing deepened quickly as he drifted off to sleep.

Dean stood and pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over Cas. He brushed a sweaty lock of hair from the angel's brow. "Feel better," he whispered.


End file.
